Drawing Dead

by JJ DeCeglie

  That’s not what my boss told me asshole.

  Good point he had. I kept trying.

  I can’t see how you could get away with it, they got more cameras than people in this place.

  That’s what we pay off cops for dickhead.

  He had me covered on every goddamn point.

  Now how about you shut the hell and up and instead of thinking how you’re gonna get outta this mess, start savoring your last hour of existence, 'cause you ain’t ever gonna see the sun come up again my fuckhead friend.

  Real way with words this cocksucker. He looked over at Evie, coming back out, smoking hot, faking crying, rifling like a maddened harpy through her bag.

  Her, on the other hand, I can see myself putting more than a bullet into.

  I had nothing. Well, I was gonna tell him to go and fuck his mother, and it woulda gone straight to his heart, but I figured he may just shoot me on sight rather than later on when I’d dug my own grave and probably Evie’s too. I kept my mouth shut. Bided my time. Kept my cool. But still, he could go and fuck his mother.

  How’d you make her?

  He made a sound like a pig choking on a bone, I took it to mean ‘Come again, Sir?’ He really was a fat goombah piece of shit.

  How did you make her?

  What do you care? And who the fuck are you?

  I’m the Zigzag man, who the fuck are you?

  He chuckled to himself with that one. Sounded like a gorilla dry-humping a tree-stump.

  What a fucking asshole you are. Balls on you, you believe this guy…

  He was talking to the other guy, who seemed like a shell-shocked soldier. I was thinking maybe Rob had done that to him. Maybe he was so pissed about Rob’s ass not being here that he just couldn’t speak. Fats just kept on talking, and spitting while he was at it. I woulda hated to have seen this yard-ape eat.

  I’ll kill you quick ok, bullet between the eyes I’m thinking, that suit yah?

  Sure Fats, whatever blows your hair back…how’d you make her?

  He was fed up; he coulda given me a few hard shots, but I think he settled on shooting my ass later.

  We got a call, word was out you know, everywhere, the bands on the money, pink bands. Someone spotted’em at the table. Called Melbourne, they called us. Comprende smartass.

  I nodded. Evie was taking forever with the key. I was watching her. She had the bag dangling on her left forearm and was fucking about inside it with the other hand. She gave me a look. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I sure found as fuck out.

  The shots fired out in muffled p-tings. Two of. Dull donks that ended quick in a smack sounding somewhat like a man beating his head against a block of wood. The older, fatter asshole rocked back with the impact and clutched his chest while the blood spurt out over his stout gold-ringed fingers. The winged guy didn’t know what had happened, mishandled his gun and before he could do anything about it Evie had shot him too. Right in the head. Brain matter and sauce all over the expensive wall. His limp body dropping forward and to the floor. There was a split-second when I thought I was next. She may as well have. I saw Lexy. I saw her wrists. I fell in that tub screaming. I kissed her cold, dead lips. Droning horror and nothing but unending dark. I saw it, felt it. But she skipped it. Spared me. Evie dropped the bag and the let the gun go down with it. The blood was pooling over the tiled floor in a two black-red spreading filled-in hoops that soon enough met the way raindrop ringlets do in a dirty puddle. I ran in and grabbed the case. Tossed her bag, waistbanded the gun. She just stood there, the sprawl of the blood was almost at her high-heeled toes.

  I don’t wanna go to jail Jack.

  I grabbed her. Shook her. Got her to look in my eyes.

  We gotta move.

  I said not a thing else. Instead I took her hand tight and went for the door, she wouldn’t have moved without me, she couldn’t. She just would have stood there watching those dead bodies drain onto the plush floor. Would have let it get on her shoes and probably slipped in it and then looked like she was hemorrhaging herself. It was shock. She’d never done anything like that before. Never killed anyone dead.

  We made a frenetic break, rushed out the room, beat it down the hallway. Pulse racing, mind spinning out of control. Then we had to wait there for the elevator to slowly climb to our floor. I felt like jumping off the walkway. Twenty-five storeys down. A freeing swandive into oblivion. Evie just stood agape doused in the abject horror of her present reality. Neither of us could say a word. The trip down in the elevator took what felt like three hours. Standing in a lake of the ultimate repulsion. Out in the middle of it, with no place to go but down. We must have looked like hell, as we crossed that lobby floor. Like ragged, blood-lost bodies spat freshly from the grave.

  CHAPTER 21

  I wouldn’t allow her a break until we were in the car and driving. I literally dragged her ass on one arm and did the same with the money on the other. Gun tucked tight in my pants. I tried my best to make it look all natural but Evie was flailing about at times and it was a fucking great deal of work. Security guards and casino patrons both looked at us like we were crazier than shit. Once I had her in the car I just started driving. I was breathing hard and so was she and we remained silent for a good fifteen minutes. I decided it was time to get the truth outta her. I was sick of all the bullshitting that was going on. It was gonna get me killed. And as much as I welcomed the possibility at times, right now, with her best-ever ass on the seat beside me and next to a million dollars in back, I figured maybe I could postpone the funeral for a week or two.

  She was gonna spill.

  I was gonna see to that.

  When I finally spoke it was like a rock smashing through a glass window in the dead of night. Things were that taut. Evie jumped like she’d sat on pin. I carried on…I could give two shits.

  Where’d you get the money Evie…huh, where’d you get the goddamned money?

  She kept mute. Looked at me and then away and out the window. She may have been crying still. I didn’t care.

  You’re a murderer now Evie. And I got a choice to make…am I complicit or not? You had better tell me everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.

  Don’t say that Jack! Don’t say it!

  Where did you get the fucking money?

  She was definitely crying now. I felt like socking her as hard as I could. In a way I did. We were driving past a police station. I swerved the fuck into it. You shoulda heard her gasp. As if someone had slipped it in her ass and not told her he was gonna try it on first.

  Are you fucking crazy Jack? Jack, please, Jack…Please!

  Spill Evie, cut the act and spill.

  She really turned it on then. Waterworks, sobs, gnashing of teeth, the whole third act. Fuck her. I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled that pretty face from her hands.

  Spill.

  She finally understood. And she’d hardly been crying.

  Rob stole the money. Then I stole it from him.

  Maybe. Maybe not. Who knew with this bitch.

  What do you know about the money?

  I pulled a little more. She winced. I liked that.

  It’s dirty. Rob cut some guy in for information. Some laundering thing. Really organized stuff. That’s all I know. I wasn’t there when he stole it. I just took it from him.

  I’d decided that if she didn’t start telling the truth, I was gonna have to fuck it outta her. Beat her first. Then just let her have it.

  The winged goombah at the casino recognized you Evie. Cut the shit. If you want my help, and you need it, you best believe you do baby, cut the goddamned shit.

  She started crying again. I still had hold of her hair and now pushed her face into the passenger window. Not too hard. But hard enough. Her muffled squeal sent elegant shivers to my toes.

  Evie, cut the shit honey, just cut it.

  I was there, we did the job together. I was distraction, playing dumb and lost and while they were flirting with me Rob shot’em both. I thought he’d k
illed them.

  And?

  And then when we were half-way across South Australia I hit him over the head with a rock when he was taking a piss. Stole the car. Drove to Perth.

  One hit?

  I hit him three times and then dropped it on his head from waist high.

  I let go and she came up for air. The window was opaque with her breathy fog.

  Why?

  Because he changed the plans.

  The fuck you mean?

  There was more money than he thought there would be, much more, he wanted to hole up for three months. To avoid the heat that was gonna come down on us.

  Good plan.

  It wasn’t what I agreed to.

  Willful little hussy ain’t she.

  So I'm guessing he hits you because you’re being a headstrong whore and then you beat his head in with a rock when he’s making pee-pee. Leave him for dead in the desert then drive straight into a death sentence that he was trying to save your out of this world ass from.

  She didn’t answer that. So I went on.

  I’d better watch myself huh. Stole his gun too didn’t ya. It has a homemade silencer on it Evie. Rob must be a real badass, I really ain’t sure what that makes you.

  I almost shot you in the hotel room.

  Girl is a goddamned hazard. A viper in your sock drawer.

  I know it. But I got the gun now Evie. And I ain’t anywhere as nice as I seem to be.

  For some unknowable reason this made her smile, and that smile, as I’ve previously stated, was God’s own finest hour, better than sunrise or set. I could tell she wanted me to kiss her. But I didn’t. Instead I seized a handful of hair again and drew on it harder than the last time.

  So behave yourself won’t you now. You may be the most willingly goddamned sexy girl I’ve ever come across, but I’ll hack you in half if you put it to me Evie.

  I winked at her like I’d just won first prize in an asshole parade.

  You know I would.

  I let go of her and she kinda exhaled all the air she had stored up in her lungs. A sigh of sorts. I kicked over the ignition, lent back for a bottle of wine, uncapped that sucker and then wheeled us the fuck outta there.

  We zoomed north-west all night. I knew where we were going and how long it would take. We had a one way ticket to Dogdick, Western Australia. I drove the car like a torpedo, gunning it expertly along the road in wanton excesses of speed and in barefaced fearlessness of consequences and the dark. Evie slept with her head in my lap after about two hours of sulking. I stroked her hair and tried to make sure she had sweet dreams. Occasionally caught sight of her heavenly thighs in whatever scraps there were of moonlight. In honesty I had no fucking clue what I was doing. Moving seemed correct. As did getting the fuck out the city. A different car would work too, perhaps just steal some plates, but it was gonna have to wait until we got to the place I was planning on going to 'cause getting there was the main objective.

  About two hours out, after maybe four and a half of non-stop driving I pulled into a roadhouse and filled the bitch up. Bought coffee, some food for now and supplies for later. Evie lay half asleep in the car. The sun was just starting to give faint light to the horizon without showing any sign of itself. The flat eastern landscapes showing as a black discrete silhouette against the jeweled iridescent blue of the curtain hung as backdrop to it. A fire-lit ocean vertically suspended originating the ceaselessness of space.

  If I had had no idea of anything during the dark, I was quite sure the bafflement would only increase in the light of day.

  By the time we’d reached where I’d planned everything in the expanse was covered in dew and morning. The dirt was rust red, the grass was white blonde and there was nothing but nothing till you couldn’t see any further. I’d been here before with Lexy. A dreamy, misplaced era of pastels and humid flesh. Her fragrant hair in my face and her insides all lovely encompassing as much of me as they possibly could. This was about as outta the way as you could get in a night and it was gonna be best to lay very low during sunup. Nobody came here if they could avoid it, especially at this time of year.

  It was only about just on seven and already the star was aiming its menace upon one’s skin and eyeballs. Searing the dewiness from the already scorched earth. This place was somehow like Mexico. Adobe style chalets. Laziness and dust in the air. The enormous bay just over yonder and in view from the window. Town’s folk watching in suspicion at your every foreign move. Once we checked our asses in we weren’t gonna be leaving the room apart from maybe taking a walk down to the inlet in the evening. Maybe not even that. I left Evie in the car and went to see about a room. It was the same old fuck who’d been running the joint when I came here with Lexy. That was over a year ago, though I think he’d been there since the beginning of time itself. Still sitting there like a Grecian scholar drinking from a glass of what had to be a tepid beer.

  A room thanks.

  Got a real nice one round back. Vista of the water and all.

  Sounds right.

  Just yourself huh?

  No, my wife’s in the car.

  Damn empty up here this time of year you know. Dead.

  It’s beautiful though. Some much space.

  Scares people I find.

  Huh?

  The space, the peace, it scares people.

  How so?

  Just does.

  It was bizarre, but I knew what he meant.

  Have you been here before son?

  No.

  Could have swore you have…you came with your sister I think…really beautiful girl, blonde as sunlight itself, blue shining eyes. Girl just bubbled life. It was you with her. You’ve been here before.

  Wasn’t me. Must have me mixed up with someone else. This is the furtherest north I’ve ever been. Wish it wasn’t, but it is.

  He took a moment. Then slurped loudly from his drink without ever taking his bitter stare off me.

  Why you lying to me?

  I’m not…look if you don’t want us, we’ll just leave.

  I never said that. I’m just saying that you’ve stood there before this time now, and in that time we had ourselves a similar conversement.

  Believe this motherfucker.

  What can I tell you? You’re pressing me for answers that I can’t give old man. You want me to lie and say yeah I was here, just so as to appease your version of reality. I can do that if you like.

  Tell me I ain’t mad.

  Just a royal pain in my ass!

  I don’t think you’re mad. You’re just mistaken. I remind you of someone else but I’m not that person. It’s fine. But if you don’t mind I think I’d like the key so I can go to my room now. My wife’s been waiting awhile.

  He looked at me uncomprehendingly for some seconds and then reached over and got the key, handed it to me and grimaced like he’d smelt something rotten in the air. I rattled the keys as a thank-you and he just took a finishing taster of that warm glass of beer as an evident fuck you Then he wiped his acidic old maw on the sleeve of his flannelette shirt. I signed the forms under a false name (Phillip Marlowe) and left the hundred dollar bond. I walked out without looking back but I heard him shift his weight rearward into the seat and then emit with complete resounding relief an almighty muttered “Bullshit!”, which I was absolutely meant to hear.

  And I thought to myself as I hauled my ass out to the car why in hell did you pick this place you scuba-headed son of a bitch bastard.

  Of all places...

  In all the state.

  Come on man.

  Why in damned hell?

  CHAPTER 22

  I whipped the car round and parked it out front of the room. Evie made slow going getting out of the car. She still had on her evening dress and heels. Still looked very good and perhaps even a little sexier than normal on account of her scuffled hair and skewiff clothes and the make-up smudged all over her face. She stood by the car watching me smoke a cigarillo a minute. I was bathed half in ligh
t, the other in shadow. She was over there posed in the sunlight proper and when I looked at her briefly she had her eyes closed and seemed to be soaking it in. I paid her no attention mostly. Just leant on the car and smoked and thought.

  The way everything was playing out in my head we were in the realms of catastrophe, shit outta luck and it was only a matter of time. Sure we could keep driving, but it was nigh on a fact that you got caught running and that the best thing to do was to stay fucking put.